


Breaking the Rules

by Gab



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gab/pseuds/Gab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, this is my first ever fanfic ever so please be gentle to me! Oh god, so scared. It also hasn't be edited so forgive any typos etc. </p><p>Basically, Derek is a professor and Stiles tricks him into giving him private classes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Not your finest work, Stilinksi.”  
  


Stiles reached for the paper in front of him and stared at the red F. Professor Hale wasn’t kidding. It was his first failed exam but Stiles couldn’t work up any feelings of disappointment. But he had to put on a show. So he sighed dramatically and stared up at his professor.  
  


“Damn, sir. I don’t know what happened.”  
  


Professor Derek Hale wasn’t the image of a college professor. He wasn’t old, he wasn’t grey, and he didn’t wear blazers. Instead, he wore t-shirts that hugged his chest in a way that made it hard for Stiles to concentrate in class. His jeans were tight enough to show off an ass that made Stiles’ teeth ache, and that’s not even mentioning his face. Cheekbones that could cut glass, and a mouth that was all angles. Yep, Professor Hale was a babe.  
 

Stiles tore his eyes away from the stern mouth and gave Hale his best confused look. “I studied real hard this time, sir,” he said. “I don’t know where I went wrong.”  
  


The professor furrowed his thick eyebrows and surveyed Stiles. “This is the third one you’ve failed this semester,” Hale remarked. “You need to improve soon or you’re going to have to take the class again.”  
  


Stiles didn’t think that taking the class again was a horrible prospect – it would mean he could stare at the professor’s ass for another semester. But he had a plan and he had to stick to it.  
  


“Sir,” he began tentatively. “I think I need a tutor.”  
  


“Stilinksi, you know that there’s a list of tutors for this subject on the student notice board.”  
  
 

“No, sir, I know that. But I think I’m beyond the help of student tutors.” Stiles knew he was stepping onto dangerous ground. Asking a teacher to tutor him personally? That was pushing it. Over the past eight weeks, he had made sure that in class, he was a model student, and that he answered all questions with a eagerness and, most importantly, an aptitude that would make the professor aware of him. And then, when it came to tests, he would quite deliberately fail. Stiles knew it was tacky but the professor would be worth it. So he continued.  
  


“It’s only in class with you that I understand what’s happening. Geochemistry is not the easiest of concepts to grasp and when I’m in my room, everything I’ve learnt flies out of my head and I can’t concentrate on the words in front of me and that’s what happens when I’m sitting the test. In class, it’s different.” Stiles paused and took a deep breath. “So will you help me, sir?” He looked up at Hale, staring earnestly at that hard face, willing him to say yes. The other students had all left by now and in the silence Stiles was sure Professor Hale would hear his heart pounding.  
  
 

***

 

Derek Hale didn’t know what to do with the overly-talkative student in front of him. Stilinksi had been a pain in his ass from the beginning of semester and taking extra classes with him would not make things easier. Hale would try not to look at him during class because the kid always seemed to have something in or near his mouth. Absently sucking on a pen or licking his lips. And it was distracting. Stilinski had a nice mouth…he had a lot of nice parts…like those eager-to-please eyes and the dark freckles that dotted the side of his neck. He’d like to follow those with his tongue and maybe see how low they went…Derek didn’t feel too comfortable lingering on that thought so he wrenched his mind back to the situation at hand. Stiles’ slim body was tense and he wide shoulders were hunched – as if he were bracing himself for rejection. There was a big part of Derek that wanted to say no. This kid was bad news.  
  


Before he realised what he was doing, Derek was saying that yes, he’d take Stiles on as a private student and they would meet in class every Wednesday and Friday nights. As he was talking, he watched glee spread over the boy’s face.  
  


“Thank you so much, sir,” he effused as he gathered up his failed paper and books. “You won’t regret it.”  
  


Derek could have sworn Stiles winked at him on the way out of class.  
  


_What the actual fuck._   
  


Derek had done a lot of stupid things in the past but this was starting to look like one of the worse ones. He was going to have that mouth near him for an extra two days a week. But what could he do? The kid was smart and for some reason that wasn’t translating to his grades. He would have done the same for any of his other students.  
  


He held on to that thought and hoped that it was true.  
  


***

Stiles opened the door to his dorm and walked in with his arms held high above his head. Victorious.  
  


Scott, his roommate, was lounging on the couch in front a flickering screen, forcefully pressing the buttons of an X-box controller.  
  


“Dude,” Stiles said, his arms still raised.  
  


Scott ignored him.  
  


“Dude!”  
  


Scott flicked his eyes towards Stiles and said, “What’s up?”

Stiles groaned and threw himself on the couch next to his best friend of eleven years. Scott wasn’t the most attentive of best friends but when Stiles was ever in a bad situation, he would always be there. Though it would take a flesh-eating zombie to tear him away from COD right now.  
  


“It worked, bro,” Stiles grinned.  
  


“What worked?”  
  


“The plan! It totally worked!”  
  


That seemed to call Scott out of his hypnosis. He paused the game and turned to Stiles.  
  


“Wait, is this the plan that will result in you boning your Geochem professor?”  
  


Stiles nodded, his cheeks hurting from that much happiness.  
  


“And what made you think this was a good idea?”  
  


“Hey! Two weeks ago, you were telling me it was a great idea!”  
  


“Sarcasm, dude! This shit is dangerous. What if he gets in trouble from the Dean?”  
  


Stiles hesitated for a second before stating, “Nah, it shouldn’t be too bad. We’ll keep it under wraps.”  
  


“You know these things get around,” Scott looked worried. He didn’t want his friend to get kicked out of college because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.  
  


“It’ll be fine,” Stiles reassured him. “If it comes to it, I’ll just transfer to Professor Argent’s class. That guy is nowhere near as bang-able so I won’t even be a little bit tempted.”  
  


Scott lunged at Stiles just as he danced away. The daughter of Professor Argent was the object of Scott’s latest lust-filled fantasies. And it really didn’t help that her dad was both a professor and a hard-ass. Scott had to constantly be on his best behaviour because any toe out of line could result in either expulsion or castration. Stiles didn’t envy the guy.  
  


Later, Stiles lay in his bed and thought about Professor Hale. He didn’t want to get him into trouble but he had to do something. It was like he had ants crawling under his skin whenever the professor was around. Normally, Stiles would attribute that to his ADHD but this time it was something different. He’d tried to forget his crush by sleeping with dudes who were available and interested. But in the end, they didn’t do anything for him. He couldn’t get the guy out of his head. He would stare at his back while Professor Hale wrote complex compositions on the board. Those t-shirts stretched over heavy shoulders and the way they tapered down into that narrow waist. Jeans cupped his ass in a way that seemed illegal and Stiles would have to wipe drool off his chin and deglaze his eyes when the teacher turned around. He’d been doomed from the start.  
  


Stiles shifted and rearranged himself in his boxers…his hand lingered for a second and that was all it took. Reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled out his lotion and a few tissues. He may as well do something productive with those thoughts.

 

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the same really.

On Wednesday night, Stiles decided to walk to class from his dorm. It would take him twenty minutes but if he rode his bike, then he wouldn’t have an excuse to ask Professor Hale for a lift on the way back. It was a pretty nice night anyway, with a clear sky and bright, full moon. He had worn his best hoodie and cleanest jeans. Stiles was determined not to make any strong moves on the professor tonight, but making the guy aware of his decent ass (Stiles was a realist and he didn’t have time for modesty) wouldn’t hurt his case.

The corridors of Braun Hall were silent and dark, and Stiles felt a little tense walking through there alone. His footsteps echoed in the shadows and he had to quell the urge to glance behind him every three seconds. He hurried his pace until finally he stood in front of his classroom. Relief flooded through him as he saw Professor Hale through the mottled glass. Girding his loins, he raised his hand and knocked.

Hale turned around and walked towards the door, pulling it open to reveal his permanently displeased expression. To combat his sour face, Stiles pulled his mouth into a huge grin and started to talk.

“Professor Hale, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this. I never thought that I would need private tutoring but you saw my grade. What am I talking about? You _gave_ me that grade so of course you’ve seen it. Anyway, I’m ready to listen to whatever tips you have to give me because I need them real bad.”

The professor just stood there, one hand on the doorknob and the other resting on the jamb, effectively blocking Stiles’ entry. He waited for the boy to draw breath before interrupting.

“I have one rule. You’re not allowed to talk.”

“But-“

“Nope. No talking whatsoever. You’re here to learn. You have a question? You can put your hand up. You need to use the bathroom? You wait till we’re done. When I’m talking, you listen. That’s the only way these sessions are going to work.”

Stiles felt a thrill run through his body. He didn’t know why, but when the professor got all stern like that, it made his cock twitch. But he had to focus. Pulling his face into a contrite expression, Stiles nodded and whispered “Yes, sir.”

Not talking was going to be hard but he would make an effort for the professor.

 

Derek still couldn’t believe he had agreed to this. He had been cursing himself for the past week, trying to figure out how he could get himself out of this ridiculous situation. But his brain had stopped working and his fucking libido had taken over. He wanted Stiles alone. He told himself he wouldn’t touch, and that looking was allowed. The kid was twenty-one, for fuck’s sake. More than legal. Derek had earned his doctorate at a young age but being a professor at twenty-six hadn’t really put him in any sticky situations with students who were so close to his own age. Until now.

Not that anything was going to happen.

Derek was a professional and all he had to do was act like one.

He turned away from Stiles who had just caught his bottom lip between very white teeth and was chewing earnestly. He could do this.

One hour later, and Derek had begun to doubt his professionalism. Stiles hadn’t said a word since his mumbled acquiescence and he was doing everything that Derek told him to do. He was also answering all the questions right and engaging with the information at a level that Derek hadn’t witnessed from him before. He was quick and smart. Derek was impressed.

But the younger boy was also a fucking brat.

If Stiles thought that brushing his hand when Derek went over to help with an equation and breathing deeply as though he were trying to suck up Derek’s scent was an okay thing to do, then he had another thing coming. Derek’s whole body was aching with the urge to grab him and pin him against a wall with his hips, and he would take Stiles’ hands and push them above his head so that he was in complete control over that lithe frame. But no no no no, it wasn’t good to think about those things. He had to keep himself under control.

 

Being silent was taking its toll on Stiles. All those extra words that he wasn’t allowed to say had turned into restless energy, and he was feeling edgy. Nothing had even happened. He hadn’t meant to touch the professor’s hand (and the resulting zing had been nice but so very inconvenient) and he had had to content himself with smelling the guy. But damn, he smelled good. Like pine and musk. Stiles wanted to know if he tasted as good as he smelled. And it was a physical effort not to lean forward and lick his cheek. The only thing that stopped him was knowing that Hale would look at him in disgust. At least he thought he would…  
Was the professor glancing at his mouth too much? Normally, Stiles would have said that it was because he was talking. A lot of people were baffled at the speed at which he could talk and he often caught people staring at his mouth. So when the professor did it, he would brush it off. But now, Stiles hadn’t even said a word.

He paused in his writing and looked up Hale. Their eyes caught and tension cracked between them.

_What the hell is going on?_

Stiles pushed the errant thought from his mind. No way in hell was the professor interested in him. He might dream about it (frequently), he might jerk off to it (constantly) but this was about _convincing_ the professor to maybe let Stiles have his filthy way with him.

But right now, it was looking as though the dear old professor wouldn’t need much convincing at all. There was a heat in his eyes that made Stiles want to cover the embarrassing erection that had just popped up. He put his pen down and pushed out his chair.

At that movement, Hale’s eyes went icy.

“You’re right, Stilinski,” he said. “That’s enough for one night. You did well but you need to bring this to class. We’ll meet again on Friday.”

As he spoke, he swiftly gathered his books and laptop, slipping them into his bag. Before Stiles could say a word, he had pulled the strap over his shoulder and walked out the door, leaving Stiles with a boner and a long walk home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some smut!!! Because I didn't want to wait :D:D

Stiles felt big hands push him onto his bed. He could sense the professor’s eyes roam over his body, catching on the bulge pushing against the fly of his jeans. Stiles looked up under his lashes to see the professor grin wolfishly – his cock got even harder. 

Stiles reached up and grabbed a handful of Hale’s t-shirt. That thing needed to come off. He helped the man rip it over his head and Stiles paused for just a second to marvel at the sculpted mass that was his chest. 

Fuck.

He pulled himself up and smashed his mouth against Hale’s, teeth clinking and tongues licking deep. Hands fumbled at his waist and he felt the professor’s teeth at the base of his neck. His head dropped back and he gasped when he felt a hot suction drawing at the skin there. There would be a mark. Good.

The contact wasn’t enough though. Stiles found the button fly of Hale’s jeans and he was about to flick it open when those big hands found his wrists. Hale dragged them above his head and pinned Stiles to the mattress, straddling his hips. Underneath that heavy body, Stiles was practically immobile. But still he thrust up, dragging his cock against that jean-clad ass. It felt like heaven. 

Hale shifted on top of Stiles’ body, his hands clawing down his chest and finding a resting place at the boy’s waist. Stiles’ heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest and his breath was short. Everything seemed to slow down and all he could feel were those hands unzipping his jeans, reaching in, and palming his cock.

 

Stiles jerked awake, sweat coating his chest and blankets sticking to him. His dick was tenting the sheets and he groaned with frustration, pounding the mattress with his fists. This was going to be rough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Stiles is sad and Scott is Scott.
> 
> It's a short one but there'll be more updates soon!

Stiles slammed his lunch tray down next to Scott.

“Dude!” Scott exclaimed, looking at the vanilla pudding that had just splattered itself across his new shirt. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Stiles mumbled an answer. His head was buried in his folded arms so it wasn’t exactly the best way to conduct a conversation. But he was down. He’d been having private lessons with Professor Hale for three weeks now and nothing had happened. Ever since that first night when they had shared that heated glance and Stiles had wanted to make a move. And he had tried. Yet as soon as he had pushed out his chair, the professor had frozen up. Those liquid eyes had turned to ice and those shoulders had tensed up. The implacable Professor Hale had returned. 

“Stiles?” Scott asked again.

Stiles dragged his head up and propped it on his hand. Looking woefully at his best friend, he sighed heavily.

“What am I going to do?” he dragged out the last syllable, turning it into a whine.

Scott concentrated again on his meatloaf. He totally knew what Stiles was talking about. His friend hadn’t been able to talk about anything else in the past few weeks, becoming absolutely obsessed with his private tutor. He had stormed into their dorm every time, growling and frowning, slamming books and huffing until Scott finally broke and asked him what was wrong. Then Scott would have to sit there for two hours and listen to Stiles talk about how gorgeous the professor was, and how distant he could be, but sometimes there would be a glint in his eye, but then it would disappear, and he wouldn’t come to lean over Stiles’ shoulder anymore so he wasn’t even able to smell him…

Yep, Scott knew a lot about the situation. And he really wished he didn’t.

He was desperate for a change in subject. 

“I asked Allison out,” he interjected.

That made Stiles’ jaw drop. He sputtered for a few moments before letting out an excited shout. 

“Are you serious?” he asked. “You took your damn time about it!”

Scott flushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, well, you try asking a girl that hot out.”

“Don’t worry, bro,” Stiles laughed. “I’ll leave the hot girls to you.”

Apparently thinking about hot girls and dates made Stiles realise that he still hadn’t been on a date with the hot professor and his shoulders dropped again. He picked at the pasta on his plate, having lost his appetite.

“How’s your dad doing?” Scott inquired, determined to cheer up his friend a bit.

“Yeah, he’s good,” Stiles replied. “He’s been busy with a big case so I’ve got Louisa at the office making sure he’s eating right.”

Mr Stilinski was Beacon Hill’s district attorney. He was known for his tough tactics and no-nonsense attitude. He also had a fondness for fried food that was a serious threat to his cholesterol. And Stiles had already lost one parent so he was making sure that he didn’t lose another. 

“Are you going to go back over the break?”

“Maybe…” 

Stiles hadn’t planned to go back but now that the situation with Professor Hale wasn’t turning out the way he hoped, going away was probably a good idea. He needed to get away from that guy. 

“Well, I’m heading back to see my mum,” Scott went on. “So let me know when you decide and I’ll hitch a ride from you.”

Stiles nodded absentmindedly. It looked like he would be heading back to Beacon Hills…and saying goodbye to Professor Hale for a while.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe

“Sir, why don’t you like me?”

In the middle of writing a chemical equation on the board, Professor Hale froze. Those big shoulders were tense beneath the tight black fabric of his shirt.   
Stiles covered his mouth with hands. How the fuck did that happen?! He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t wanted to talk at all tonight. He had intended to go in, sit down, do the work and leave. In fact, he had even considered giving up the classes but the prospect of not seeing the professor alone for those few hours made his heart clench.

Heart?

Dragging his mind away from that thought, Stiles attempted to fix the matter at hand.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re not even supposed to like me. You’re my teacher! So just pretend I never said anything.” Stiles wanted to sink into the floor. He knew his face was beet red and the temptation to cover it with his hands was almost overwhelming. 

“Stiles-” Hale began.

“No, seriously, it’s not necessary. Just keep doing what you were doing. Please.”

Derek stared at Stiles’ flushed cheeks. He felt a response low in his belly. He wanted to comfort him, go to him, but caution stayed his movements. 

He knew the kid had a crush on him. It was obvious from a mile away. But he didn’t want to take the risk of getting involved with him. It wasn’t exactly forbidden but it was definitely frowned upon. It also had taken him a while to earn the respect of the older staff since they had been predisposed to thinking that the twenty-six year old newbie was vapid and naïve. It had taken a year to prove to them that he was a hard worker who kept his head in the game. And Derek wasn’t ready to sacrifice his position for the sake of a gorgeous pair of eyes. 

So he steeled himself and turned away from Stiles’ lowered head.

He wasn’t ready to mess this up. 

The rest of the lesson passed in silence. He tried not to look at Stiles’ red ears, tried not to imagine how his cheeks would feel hot underneath Derek’s lips. Instead, he wrote mechanically on the board. Stiles didn’t ask him a single question. Normally, he was bouncing out of chair, words spilling from his mouth in a messy tumble. His hunched posture made Derek’s chest ache. 

But he resolutely pushed it aside. 

At the end of the hour, Stiles arose from his desk, the metallic scrape of his chair against the floor making Derek wince. The boy mumbled something under his breath and turned, making his way towards the door.

“Stiles,” Derek said.  
The boy stopped.

“I don’t hate you at all.”

It was a moment or two before Stiles finally turned around. Derek’s heart was beating hard, adrenalin making it kick in his chest. A smile played around the corners of Stiles’ mouth and the boy let his bag fall to the floor, the dull thud echoing in the silence.

“Really, sir?” he asked, taking a step closer.

Derek wiped his chalky hands together, suddenly damp with perspiration. He resisted the urge to swipe a hand over his sweaty forehead, knowing that he’d just look like even more of an idiot. Why was he feeling off balance? He was normally the one in control. But with Stiles stalking closer and closer, a predatory gleam in his eyes, Derek wasn’t able to summon his icy demeanour. 

Derek raised his eyes to the boy who was now standing directly in front of him. Though Stiles was slighter than Derek, he was roughly the same height. Derek breathed in the scent of him, his mouth watering. Stiles smiled at Derek, as if he knew what the professor was thinking. 

This was not going to end well.

 

Stiles looked at the professor. He didn’t know where this new-found confidence had come from, but he was going to ride it out and see where it took him. Since he heard those words fall from Hale’s lips, his voice so deep it almost rasped over Stiles’ skin, he was a goner. 

Hale’s nostrils flared, and his mouth parted. Stiles felt blood rush to his cock and he leant down to drag his lips along the exposed flesh above Hale’s shirt. 

Fuck.

His tongue flicked out and he felt the professor grab at his hips, bringing them together till they were pressed chest to chest. Stiles felt Derek’s chest pumping against his own, and he responded by sucking hard at Derek’s neck, wanting to mark him. The pressure snapped something in Derek and he pushed at Stiles so that the younger boy’s back hit the wall next to the blackboard. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Derek was breathing hard, a dark smudge on the side of his neck.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Stiles replied, a grin making its way over his face. He glanced down at the erection threatening at the zip of the professor’s jeans. “And something’s telling me you don’t.”

Derek coloured under the scrutiny but he kept his glare on. 

“Why? Don’t you want to fool around, sir?”

In a storm of movement, Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrists and pinned them above his head. Stiles felt like he was going to faint, as all the blood left his head in a rush and made its way to his cock, when memories of his dreams came flooding back. He wanted this. He needed to be pinned by Derek. 

“Sir, please fuck me.”

The breathy words seemed to make Derek go wild. His mouth found Stiles’ and he licked deep, his fingers gripping the delicate skin at his wrists. Stiles was overwhelmed. Derek tasted like heaven and his kiss was even better. The smooth glide of his tongue was driving Stiles insane and he thrust his hips forward, revelling in the hard line of Derek’s cock against his and loving the feel of being helpless against him. He moaned into Derek’s mouth and Derek’s whole body tightened in response. He skin was too tight and everything was too hot. He could barely breathe and he didn’t want it to end.

A clatter from outside the room gave them pause.

Stiles stared at the professor who had almost succeeded in bringing him to his knees…actually he really wouldn’t mind being on his knees right and maybe showing Hale a little bit of the madness he was feeling. But Derek had gone pale. He watched as the professor slowly started to draw back into himself, removing his hands from Derek’s now raw wrists, and putting space between their bodies. Stiles wanted to sob at the warmth that was immediately taken away but he knew better than to push it.

Seconds later, the janitor came strolling past the door, whistling a tune as he pushed along his metal mop bucket. 

Derek Hale, master ravisher of Stiles’ nubile, young body, had disappeared and Professor Hale, stern-ass extraordinaire, had returned to take his place.

He prided himself in not even whimpering as the professor gathered his things and left the room, leaving Stiles behind without even a backward glance.


End file.
